Showing posts with label flashbacks. Show all posts
Showing posts with label flashbacks. Show all posts

Tuesday, June 10, 2014

In the Bottom of a Hole (poem)

Trying to block out the piercing screams of yesterday
Some days it seems like an eternity away
Other days,
I'm in a haze,
And it feels close
Like the nose
On my face.
Reaching for a sense of who I am,
Of who I was before . . .
Was I somebody back then,
Or have I always been this empty shell?
I have no way of knowing,
There's no easy way to tell.
I think I remember a little girl
That used to be me.
That used to believe in goodness.
In beauty.
In truth.
But that was long ago.
Where did she go?
Did I bury her with the babies I lost?
Was that part of the cost - -
Losing my soul in the midst of the storm?
I wish I could cry.  I wish I knew why.
I wish I could understand the reasons
For year after year of those seasons
Of waking nightmares in a living hell.
I wish I didn't remember it so well.
I wish I knew how to navigate this road,
How to straddle the potholes that emerge
Without falling back into some bottomless pit
That has no end to it.
I wish to hell that none of it was real,
That I could stuff the agony I feel,
That I could make some sense of it all.
But I can't.
It's just more and more and more of the same.
More leg-spreading, gut-wrenching, mind-blowing pain.
More heart-breaking, soul-bending, self-splitting shame.
And to think that to him it was only a game!
So here I sit, not knowing what to do.
I don't know when all this "feeling" will be through.
Do I hide? Do I fight it?
Is there any way to right it?
Will my mind forever be a shattered mess?
Is there any way to navigate this?
How do I let it go?
How can I just say it happened. It sucked.
And then walk away.
As though it didn't matter.
As though it didn't shatter
Every part of my soul.
I'm really struggling to see
What the point's supposed to be.
I don't want to be a victim.
I don't want to let that dick win.
But I feel so stuck here . . .
Like I'm in the bottom of a hole
That I'll never crawl out of.


Friday, March 9, 2012

Sex Addict (collage)

A Sex addict -- what my ex-husband was, and in all likelihood still is.

I'm Not Quitting . . . Yet . . .

PTSD ... I'm convinced that must stand for "Pretty Tough Stuff Daily" ... the awful nightmares, crippling body memories, intrusive flashbacks, and all the other "fun stuff" that goes along with it.

I had a particularly challenging therapy session today, to the point that I was physically ill & vomiting afterwards. I crawled home so utterly exhausted that it was all I could do to fix supper for the kids before collapsing in bed, virtually catatonic and shaking. I just lay there in a trance for about an hour with the eternal "to do" list running through my mind, trying desperately to will myself to snap out of it, get up, and get busy. But it was no use. My body just wouldn't cooperate. I took a series of deep, cleansing breaths and tried to reground & center myself. Not helpful. Then, from somewhere deep inside, the thought came to me, "So, that's it then, huh? You're just going to let him win? You're just going to give up?"

Not in this lifetime! I drug myself out of bed and began washing the dishes & wiping off the kitchen counters. I checked the kids' backpacks, started supper, and unloaded & reloaded the washing machine ... and was suddenly startled by the realization that I was ... HUNGRY. Had I eaten yet today? I realized I hadn't (aside from the snack I'd eaten during therapy, which I had promptly thrown up afterward). I poured myself a bowl of cereal, sloshed in some milk, and started devouring it. I was FAMISHED. I relished the texture of each bite as it crunched around my mouth, enjoying the wonderful sensation of being ALIVE.

"That's right," I thought to myself, "I'm HERE. I'm alive. I survived. I WON, and HE LOST!"

I may have nightmares again tonight. Such is life. But I'm not giving up. I can't. I won't. I didn't come this far to cower in fear because of a few pesky flashbacks & traumatic memories. And that's all they are -- MEMORIES! It's OVER! He can't hurt me anymore! And I'll be DAMNED if I'm going to let the things he said & did to me keep stealing the joy out of my life.

Walking into my daughter's room to tuck her in and seeing her lying there, sleeping so peacefully, I realized that there are some things in life that are worth fighting for.

Tomorrow is another day. I will wake up. I will put one foot in front of the other. I will go on living. I will go on healing. I will go on BEING. I will learn to let myself feel without fearing the feelings. I will learn to share without fearing rejection or judgment. I will learn to sleep without fearing the nightmares. And someday ... maybe ... I will learn to love again ... without worrying about being tormented & terrorized.

I can do this. I am NOT a quitter. I'm a survivor!

Friday, February 17, 2012

Be Mine (collage - adult content)

Bits and pieces from flashbacks from one particular Valentine's Day when I was beaten with a coat hanger
and otherwise brutalized in various ways that I won't get into right now.  My ex-abuser was upset because he had
bought me sexy red lingerie and I had my period and had therefore "ruined" Valentine's Day for him. His use of force and punishment was his way of proving that he had total control over me, that I was, in all ways, shapes, and forms, HIS!

Tuesday, February 14, 2012

What is Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - aka PTSD? (article)

When I tell people that I suffer from complex PTSD as a result of various traumas and my abusive marriage, I often get blank stares or questioning looks.  So, in hopes of somewhat enlightening those who are fortunate enough to be unfamiliar with PTSD, here is a brief explanation.  If you wish, you can, of course, google it and there's a plethora of information available.   However, I'll try to give you a sort of 'Reader's Digest Condensed Version' to save you some time.... Honestly, I DID try to keep it short .... REALLY!   Portions that are highlighted in red and bolded are things that I can personally relate to and am now experiencing or have experienced in the past.
-------------------------------
Q: What is PTSD, who gets it, and what causes it?

A: Post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) is a condition that has both emotional and physical components.  

Although it has likely existed since human beings have endured trauma, PTSD has only been recognized as a formal diagnosis since 1980. Before then it was known by a variety of names (usually in connecting with various wars, etc.): soldier's heart, combat fatigue, post-Vietnam syndrome, battle fatigue, and shell shock.   

Virtually any event that is (or is perceived as) life-threatening or that severely compromises the physical or emotional well-being of an individual may cause PTSD. Examples include things such as:
(*) experiencing or witnessing a severe accident or physical injury,
(*) being the victim of kidnapping or torture,
(*) exposure to military combat or a disaster (hurricane, plane crash, etc.),
(*) being the victim of rape, mugging, robbery or assault; or
(*) enduring physical, sexual, emotional, or other forms of abuse.


Q: Does everyone who experiences trauma develop PTSD, or are some people more at risk than others?
A: Not everyone who survives traumatic events will develop PTSD. Issues that tend to put people at a higher risk for developing PTSD include:
(*) the individual experienced trauma as a child,
(*) the individual experienced trauma over an extended period of time,
(*) the individual experienced very severe physical and/or emotional pain,
(*) the individual had an emotional condition prior to the trauma (low self-esteem, anxiety, depression, etc.), or
(*) the individual was isolated and had little social support in the form of family or friends.


Q: What are some of the symptoms of PTSD?
A:  The three groups of symptoms that are required to assign the diagnosis of PTSD are:
RE-EXPERIENCING, AVOIDANCE/NUMBING, and HYPER-AROUSAL.


Symptoms that fall under re-experiencing are:
• Recurrent and intrusive distressing recollections of the trauma -- including images, thoughts, and/or perceptions
Body memories (not a conscious recollection of what they are re-experiencing but they will often experience the same physical pain).
• Recurrent distressing dreams of the trauma (nightmares).
• Acting or feeling as if the trauma were recurring (includes a sense of reliving the experience, dissociative flashback episodes, especially upon first awakening from sleep).
Intense psychological distress at exposure to triggers (internal or external cues that symbolize or resemble an aspect of the trauma).  Fear, anxiety, depression, etc.Intense physical reactions upon exposure to triggers. (Difficulty breathing, pain, nausea, headache, dizziness, numbness/tingling, heart racing, etc.)


Symptoms that fall under avoidance/numbing are:
• Make an effort to avoid thoughts, feelings, or conversations associated with trauma.
Make an effort to avoid activities, places, or people that arouse recollections of the trauma (for example: avoiding going to the doctor, a former place where the person lived, certain types of clothing, certain rooms, sounds, smells, etc.)
Inability to recall an important aspect of the trauma.
Markedly diminished interest or participation in significant activities.
Feeling of detachment or estrangement from others.
Restricted range of affect (able to have loving feelings but unable to express anger or vice versa; feeling emotionally numb or "robotic").


Symptoms that fall under hyper-arousal are:
Difficulty falling or staying asleep.
Irritability or outbursts of anger.
Difficulty concentrating.  (this is a BIGGIE for me)
Hyper vigilance (walking on eggshells/always being 'on guard').
Increased or exaggerated startle response.


In addition, the following groups of symptoms MAY occur in some individuals with PTSD (most commonly seen in response to added stress):

Impaired ability to regulate emotion.
Ambivalence.
Self-destructive and/or impulsive behavior.
• Increased need to be around others.
Re-enactment of past traumas.
Dissociative symptoms.
Feelings of ineffectiveness and incompetency.
Shame.
Despair or hopelessness
Feeling victimized.
Feeling permanently damaged.
• Loss of previously sustained beliefs.
• Hostility.
Social withdrawal and isolation.
Feeling constantly threatened or unsafe.
Impaired relationships with others.
Addictions - may try to self-medicate PTSD symptoms with a substance or constantly occupy oneself with activity (work lots of overtime, take on extra projects, etc).


Q: How is one diagnosed with PTSD?
A:  At least one re-experiencing symptom, three avoidance/numbing symptoms, and two hyperarousal symptoms must be present for at least one month and must cause significant distress or functional impairment in order for the diagnosis of PTSD to be assigned. PTSD is considered of chronic duration if it persists for three months or more. 

Q: You say you have complex PTSD.  What is that?
A: Complex post-traumatic stress disorder (C-PTSD) is a more complicated/chronic type of the condition that usually results from prolonged exposure to trauma and is characterized by long-lasting problems with many aspects of emotional and social functioning. Basically think of it as PTSD on steroids!

In addition to the symptoms associated with "normal" PTSD, symptoms that tend to be associated with C-PTSD include: significant problems expressing and/or regulating feelings; a tendency to forget the trauma or feel detached from one's life (dissociation) or body (depersonalization); persistent feelings of helplessness, shame, guilt, or being completely different from others; and severe change in those things that give the sufferer meaning (such as a loss of spiritual faith or an ongoing sense of helplessness, hopelessness, or despair).

Q: How is PTSD treated?
A: Since PTSD affects both the body and the mind, effective treatment approaches will generally have both psychological and medical components.  Professional help is usually required and one or more of the following may be used:

(*) Education - teaching individuals about what PTSD is, that it is caused by extraordinary stress rather than weakness, how it is treated, and what to expect in treatment. This education thereby increases the likelihood that inaccurate ideas the person may have about the illness are dispelled, and any shame they may feel about having it is minimized. Teaching people with PTSD practical approaches to coping with what can be very intense and disturbing symptoms has been found to be another useful way to treat the illness.

(*) Relaxation - helping sufferers learn how to manage fear & anxiety, improve their communication skills, and use relaxation techniques can help individuals with PTSD gain a sense of mastery over their emotional and physical symptoms.

(*) Cognitive behavioral therapy - helps people with PTSD recognize and adjust trauma-related thoughts and beliefs by educating them about the relationships between thoughts and feelings, exploring common negative thoughts held by traumatized individuals, developing alternative interpretations, and by practicing new ways of looking at things. This treatment also involves practicing learned techniques in real-life situations. (I personally haven't found this to be too helpful as some of my symptoms are bodily responses that just don't seem to respond to this type of therapy.)

(*) Somatic Trauma therapy -  In development since 1992, Somatic Trauma Therapy is not a single method, but an integrated system of psychotherapy and body-psychotherapy that continues to evolve as new theory and techniques emerge in the field. Somatic Trauma Therapy addresses all aspects of trauma's impact -- on thinking, emotions, and bodily sensations -- bringing them into sync, and relegating trauma to it's rightful place in the past. So, I guess you could call it a "combo" approach to PTSD.  (My own experience with this type of therapy is that it's gut-wrenching, pain-staking work that involves processing the trauma itself, a bit at a time, and re-experiencing it in "real time."  This can be excruciatingly painful and exhausting, both emotionally and physically.)

(*) Eye-movement desensitization and reprocessing (EMDR) is a form of cognitive therapy in which the practitioner guides the person with PTSD in talking about the trauma suffered and the negative feelings associated with the events, while focusing on the professional's rapidly moving finger. While some research indicates this treatment may be effective, it is unclear if this is any more effective than cognitive therapy that is done without the use of rapid eye movement. (This technique didn't help me all that much using eye movements.  My therapist instead had me close my eyes and she gently tapped the tops of my outstretched hands alternately in a rhythmic manner.  This seemed to be a bit more effective for me.) 

(*) Directly addressing sleep problems - not only helps alleviate those problems but also helps decrease the symptoms of PTSD in general. Specifically, rehearsing adaptive ways of coping with nightmares (imagery rehearsal therapy), training in relaxation techniques, positive self-talk, and screening for other sleep problems have been found to be particularly helpful in decreasing the sleep problems associated with PTSD.    (I currently take a prescription medication to help me get to sleep and stay asleep.  Without it, I cannot sleep. I also utilize several relaxation and meditation techniques to help "destress" before bedtime.) 

(*) Medications - in some cases medication can help PTSD sufferers by decreasing the physical and emotional symptoms associated with condition. SSRIs are the first group of medications that have achieved approval by the U.S. Food and Drug Administration (FDA) for the treatment of PTSD. These medicines have been found to help PTSD sufferers modify information that is taken in from the environment (stimuli) and to decrease fear. Research also shows that this group of medicines tends to decrease anxiety, depression, and panic.  (I'm currently taking prescription medications for anxiety, depression, and insomnia.)

The following quote explains fairly well how PTSD can potentially develop when a person becomes overwhelmed by trauma:

"The human response to danger is a complex, integrated system of reactions, encompassing both body and mind. Threat initially arouses the sympathetic nervous system, causing the person in danger to feel an adrenaline rush and to go into a state of alert. Threat also concentrates a person's attention on the immediate situation. In addition, threat may alter ordinary perceptions: people in danger are often able to disregard hunger, fatigue, or pain. Finally, threat evokes intense feelings of fear and anger. These changes in arousal, attention, perception, and emotion are normal, adaptive responses. They mobilize the threatened person for strenuous action, either in battle or in flight...Traumatic reactions (such as PTSD) occur when action is of no avail. When neither resistance nor escape is possible, the human system of self-defense becomes overwhelmed and disorganized. Each component of the ordinary response to danger, having lost it's utility, tends to persist in an altered and exaggerated state after the actual danger is over....Traumatic events produce profound and lasting changes in physiological arousal, emotion, cognition, and memory. Moreover, traumatic events may sever these normally integrated functions from one another. The traumatized person may experience intense emotion without clear memory of the event, or may remember everything in detail but without emotion."

(From p. 43 of Judith Lewis Herman's book "Trauma and Recovery").

Hope that helps!  I welcome any further questions or comments.

Friday, February 10, 2012

Molten Mush (sonnet)

I can't concentrate enough to crochet.
My brain is one big gob of molten mush.
How will I ever make it through this day,
Do supper, laundry, and homework and such?
I feel so embarrassed asking for help,
Though it's a relief to know help is there.
Wish I had the strength to do it myself,
But the load right now's more than I can bear.
If only the flashbacks would stay away.
If only the memories wouldn't come up.
If only I'd keep the feelings at bay,
Then I think I could survive well enough.
The past keeps bubbling up into my face.
I still can't seem to find a peaceful place.

Wednesday, April 13, 2011

Please, No More (triple sonnet)

Throbbing pain, as I whisper, "Please, no more!"
My silent cries, unheard, fall on deaf ears.
I'm worn out, I'm dried out, I'm torn and sore.
Each throbbing thrust a knife that burns and sears.
I try again, and whisper, "Please be done!"
"You want it in your mouth then, say the word."
Which word must I say? I try to pick one.
But his "logic" is skewed and so absurd.
Gasping for air, I try to find a way
To escape from this hell within a bed,
But  I can't complain, no words I dare say,
Or he'll turn me and go backwards instead.
Oh soul of mine, where have you gone to hide?
How can I find you way down deep inside?

"You're done when I say that you're done," he says.
I shudder and wonder how long this time.
It could be ten minutes, three hours, or less,
There's never really a reason or rhyme.
"You can come again for me now, can't you!"
His words, not a question, but a demand.
"The Lord is my Shepherd . . ." keeps running through
As I brace myself and wait for his hand.
Worse still, I see it coming through the air,
His hand balled up in a hard, tightened fist.
And there is no way that I can prepare
For his slobbery, slimy, cum-filled kiss.
My body has forsaken me at last.
The pain that I should feel just went right past.

"You'll take it all, I know," he says to me.
As if there is some pride he finds in this.
Bigger, deeper, and harder; endlessly.
Until he cannot rise or starts to miss.
I try to shut it out and go away.
"Let's see if this will fit, I bet it will."
My mind throws up a wall and bids it stay,
As I command my body to stay still.
"I cannot do this, Lord," I softly cry.
His hand, his fist inside, is so immense.
Is this my punishment -- for what, and why?
I can't escape the pain, it's too intense.
Awak'ning from the nightmare in a sweat,
Another mem'ry I cannot forget.





Friday, September 17, 2010

Freeflow Journaling Through a Flashback or Body Memory

I've found that sometimes there's no escaping from the grip of an intense memory (especially if it's sensory-related). Although deep breathing, progressive muscle relaxation, and meditation help a little bit sometimes, I've discovered that in some cases there's nothing I can do except "hold on for the ride."

One tool that I've found useful is what I call "freeflow journalling." I've heard others refer to it as "freewriting." Basically whatever thoughts, sensations, words, images, etc come to mind, I write it down -- without worrying about using proper punctuation & grammar (or even whether or not it "makes sense," for that matter).

There are several reasons I've found this helpful:

1) It gives me something to do while I "ride out" the traumatic memory.
2) It helps me sort through what happened afterward so that I can process it.
3) It sometimes lessens the severity of the physical aspect(s) of a flashback (maybe because my hands are "occupied").
Here's an example of a "freeform" journal entry that I wrote about a year ago when I was triggered by simply hearing someone say the phrase "Just take it all." (Note: I added some punctuation to make it SOMEWHAT easier to read.)

-----------------------------------

Just take it. Take it all. Stop your fucking complaining. Can't. No room. Stop. When will he come? Please God, No MORE! Arms over my head. Tight. Wrists. Pillow. Face. No air. Can't breathe. My duty. For my children. I can do this. I CAN'T do this. Lord, give me strength. Help me Jesus. Help me. Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil. Thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me. Burning. Enough. Searing. Too much. Go away. Arms numb. Make it STOP. So dizzy. Gonna throw up. So gross. Gagging. Salty. Over me. In me. Dribbling on me. Musky smell of him. Smothering me. Holding me. Fading. Drifting. YOU ARE MINE. I am his. I am gone. Disappeared. Where did I go? Darkness. Don't fight it. Let go. Wandering. Lights. Turning over. Spreading. Slipping. Again. Here we go again. No more. Please God, no more. Hurts so bad. Stretching. Splitting. Tearing. PLEASE let him be done. Mind over matter. He's spitting on me. Says that's good enough to go again. Mad at me. I'm dry he says. Better that way. Spits again. Good enough. It's NOT. Sticking. Pulling. Feels like he's tearing me apart. He likes it. Says I'm so good and tight. Every stroke burns. Agony. Searing pain. Deeper. Harder. Stabbing straight through me to the other side. ALMOST DONE, he says. STOP SHAKING. SHUT UP. Just a little more. Thank God. Hold on. Slipping away. Almost finished. Is he? COME AGAIN. I can't. Can I? Thrusting. Counting. Two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, twelve, fourteen, twenty, sixty nine, HUT. I miss playing football. Think about something else. Anything else. Deeper. Harder. He says he's done. Please be done. Finally. Breathing. Gulping air. Curl up in ball, knees to chin. Is he gone? Have to pee. No, I can't. Too late. Burning. He's still in me. GET IT OUT. But he's gone. Not there. Need ice. Ice. Find the ice. Make it stop. He's gone. Don't care where. Away from me. Quiet. Curl up in a ball. Make the pain go away. Lord, please... Why ... Why ... Why... Is this how it's supposed to be? Am I so weak that I cannot do this? Help me submit willingly, Lord. My body is not my own. It is his. Strengthen me, Father. Need to sing. It will be better one day. I just need to trust. Singing -"All the way my Savior leads me, what have I to ask beside? Can I doubt His tender mercy, who through life has been my Guide? Heavenly peace, divinest comfort, here by faith in Him to dwell. For I know, whate'er befalls me, Jesus doeth all things well; for I know, whate'er befall me, Jesus doeth all things well." Tears. More tears. Why? What is wrong with me? Am I a horrible wife? I must be. This is my lot, my portion in life. I shouldn't let it upset me. God is in control, this is His will for my life, so who am I to question it or complain? Singing-"Day by day, and with each passing moment, strength I find to meet my trials here. Trusting in my Father's wise bestowment, I've no cause for worry or for fear. He whose heart is kind beyond all measure gives unto each day what He deems best -- lovingly, its part of pain and pleasure, mingling toil with peace and rest" . . . God must approve of this, otherwise He wouldn't allow it. And it says there will be pain mixed with pleasure, so I guess I should be thankful even through the pain.  This must be what He wants for me, and I'll just have to accept it. Lord, help me accept it .... Singing-"Have Thine own way, Lord, have Thine own way. Thou art the potter, I am the clay. Mold me and make me after Thy will, while I am waiting, yielded and still" ... I need to just yield. Lord, help me be still and yield. I confess my weakness, my frailty, my inability to properly submit to my husband as is my duty, my inadequacy as a mother, and my incompetancy as a housewife.  I humbly bow before you, Heavenly Father, and beg for your mercy. Haven't you punished me enough? I know I don't deserve to be rescued, but I cry out to you, oh Lord. Footsteps on the stairs. Coming up. It's him. He's back. Wants more. Shaking in puddle. Still singing. Want to believe. Hands trembling. Ice melting. In the doorway. His face. Sneering. Ridiculing. God won't hear me because I'm a slut. Worthless whore. Why am I singing to a God that can't hear me? Or doesn't care to listen? He throws hymnal against wall. Says we need to pray. Pray for my forgiveness. Pray that God will help me submit. Pray that God will forgive me for my weakness. That He will forgive me for my unwillingness. Pray that God will have mercy on me. Pray that God will make me a better wife. God help me take it all. Take it all. He wants more. No, Please, no more. Please, no. He says he'll be "nice" and only do my mouth. Please no. Please. On my chest, he's so heavy. Choking, gagging, suffocating. Bite down. Slap! Let go. Stop. No more. Finish yourself. You have two hands. Will I watch? Video. Awful & disgusting. Makes me watch. Hate porn. Skin crawling. Sick. He can't come. His arm is tired. YOU FINISH. My job. My responsibility. Take it all. Swallow. No. Sick. Gross. BASTARD! Gag. God help me. Darkness. Slime. Room spinning. Pillow soft. Quiet. Fading. Take it all. Just take it all.

Thursday, July 15, 2010

Giving up the Fight (artwork; trigger warning)

I apologize in advance if this piece of artwork is disturbing to you.  I'm simply trying to wade my way through all of the perverse images that swirl around my mind these days.  Sometimes it's so hard to fit the pieces together.  What I find the most disconcerting is that in many of these images, I see myself in such a submissive state, as though I had completely given up, as though I no longer cared what happened to me, and had simply accepted what was happening as my "lot in life."  Sometimes I will have a clear recollection of thinking to myself, "If I do this, at least something worse won't happen tonight."  It's like I had lost all will to fight back. 

I've tried to determine when exactly this change took place.  Was there a moment in time that I decided it wasn't worth the struggle, that pain was inevitable and I might as well choose the least painful thing?  Was there a day that I suddenly relinquished any right to my own body? Or was it a gradual process that incidiously ate away at the very core of my being until I had no strength left to resist?  I honestly can't say.

I'm ashamed to admit that I gave up, that I stopped fighting back, that I just lay there and "took it" like a lump of nothingness.  At some point, I guess I quit feeling.  But did I really?  I find it hard to believe that there wasn't at least some internal response to the excruciating pain, humiliation, and degradation.  It's more likely that I dissociated whenever I got overwhelmed physically and/or emotionally. 


This is a very difficult image for me.  I know it happened a lot.  Several times a week, as best I can recall. I can feel my face mashed into him and his hands pushing so hard against the back of my head that my neck hurt.  I can smell the musky smell between his legs and sometimes I wake in the middle of the night with a choking sensation and a salty taste in my mouth.  I chose the swirly background because sometimes I would get so dizzy that the "room would swim" and I'd "see stars" because it was very hard to breathe.  Aside from the fact that I was probably a little low on oxygen to the brain now and then LOL, I would put myself into sort of a trance and visualize something sort of like the swirls in this picture.  I would close my eyes and points of light would go around and around in circles.

And yet, I would just kneel there. Like a robot. Like a servant.  Like it was my duty.  I can see myself just sitting there totally limp and lifeless, gagging, trying to breathe, trying to pull away just enough to take a breath and him smashing himself down my throat.  "Swallow it," he'd order, "Just swallow it."  I can feel the cold tile of the bathroom floor sometimes.  Other times, he'd have me sit on the toilet and he would stand in front of me.  That was a little "better" because at least my neck wasn't at such a crazy angle. 

Truthfully, even though I DETESTED sucking him off, I'm ashamed to admit that sometimes I would OFFER it to him to avoid the more painful alternatives.  I hate myself for being so weak, for thinking so little of myself that I would essentially try to "bargain" my way out of pain.  "I'll give you a blow job if you'll leave me alone for the rest of the night."  I don't know how many times I said that.  The sickening thing is, sometimes I'd go through a half hour of agonizing fellatio, "comforting" myself with the fact that at least for that night I wouldn't get raped, and then he'd go back on his word and wake me up at 2 in the morning ANYWAY and say, "Oh, that was just a warmup.  Time for round 2."  

How did I manage to survive?  Why didn't I go insane?  Maybe I DID go insane . . . a little . . . LOL . . . what "normal" person would spend hours on end recreating disgusting graphic images of horrible memories. 

But at the moment, it seems to be helping me "get it out," so bear with me and I apologize for the content of the "art."  One of these days I'll have to do something a little more "nice" for a change. 

Wednesday, July 7, 2010

7-7 New artwork (trigger warning)

I've been having such trouble with nightmares lately.  And what I call "daymares" LOL . . . I'm awake, but it feels like when you're trapped in a nightmare and you KNOW it's a dream, but you can't wake up.  Anyhow, there's a lot of stuff that I can't really talk about yet, but I've been able to "draw about it."  I can't even really say much about these except that each one took several hours to complete. 




Anyhow, I hope you didn't find these too disturbing.  I'll post one in a new post that's a little bit more conventional that I've just finished today (Shadow Girl).

Monday, May 10, 2010

Reminded (Acrostic Sonnet)

Some days fly by without a single thought,
Obscured by daily tasks that I must do.

How is it there are days that I cannot
Expect to find a passage safely through?
Reminded by the simplest little things,
Each time I pray that this will be the last.

I brace myself for what each mem'ry brings;

God help me, I can't breathe until it's passed.
Oft times the things that he has said and done

As foreign movies play before my eyes.
Gripped by the fear, I want to turn and run
Away from each unorthodox surprise.
I never wanted to endure it then.
Now I must somehow live through it again.

Friday, February 26, 2010

I Can't Go There Again (sonnet)

The pressure's building til I feel I'll burst.
I'm fighting it, but don't know if I can
Resist the urge to wallow in the worst
Of who and what I think and feel I am.
I know, deep down, that healing's what I need,
But, oh my God, I can't go there again.
The thought of it just makes me want to bleed;
I haven't felt this bad since way back when.
I never want to feel out of control
The way I did when I first started on
This journey to the center of my soul.
What if I get there just to find I'm gone?
I almost wish I really were insane.
I'd rather that than face this wretched pain.

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Artwork used by permission of the talented artist
April Mansilla. View and purchase her artwork HERE